TEENAGE CROOKS-IN-TRAINING LEARN TO LAUGH AT THE LAW

Police youth officers, the chief decision-makers in Chicago`s juvenile justice system, throw out nearly three-fourths of all juvenile arrests without bringing charges, even though they have evidence to prove the crimes.

Of 47,424 juvenile arrests in 1985, juveniles were released 72 percent of the time without being charged for crimes police say they committed, an intensive Tribune study of police and juvenile records found.

Juveniles arrested for the most serious crimes were released without being charged 62 percent of the time, in most cases for offenses that would be considered felonies in the adult system. Many juvenile offenders were arrested and released several times during the year.

The large number of juveniles being released indicates that the juvenile justice system in Chicago treats young people inconsistently and is often lenient with them. As a result, few juveniles need worry that they will get in trouble if they break the law.

Though police concluded the offender was guilty, they opted not to charge juveniles in 77 percent of all drug cases, 80 percent of all arrests for theft, 79 percent of all assault and battery cases, 63 percent of all firearm violations and 98 percent of all arrests related to drinking, police records show.

''A kid who`s out there every day knows he has to do something really terrible three or four times before he`s going to get into trouble,'' said Sgt. Al Anderson of the Belmont Area youth division. ''Everyone knows that. It`s no big secret.''

Most juvenile justice in Chicago takes place not in the seven juvenile delinquency courts at 1100 S. Hamilton Ave., but in the 34 police stations throughout the city.

Police officers--assuming the role of assistant state`s attorneys and, to some extent, even judges--can decide not to send offenders to court, but to a community agency or home with their parents.

The practice of releasing a young offender is known as ''adjustment'' and was developed in the 1940s to deal informally with children who commit crimes, though it was never intended to be used in cases involving serious crimes. The term comes from the idea that police in the 1940s were supposed to help deliquent youth ''adjust'' to the expectations of their community.

Today`s veteran street kids know it as ''getting a J-card,'' in reference to the yellow forms police routinely fill out before they release a juvenile offender.

The typical delinquent in Chicago gets arrested and released 11 times before seeing a courtroom, the study found. Four of those arrests are for crimes that would be considered felonies for an adult, at least one involves drugs and at least one is for a violent crime.

Rape, armed robbery, manslaughter and even murder have been ''adjusted,'' police records show.

''If someone is adjusted 12 times, not detained and doesn`t go to court, there`s something wrong and I have to figure it out,'' said Joe P. Mayo, commander of the police youth division. ''I`m not aware that`s happening, but if it is, my first step as an administrator is to know it`s going on. It`s the first step in stopping the volcano from erupting.''

Of 34,291 juvenile arrests that did not result in charges in 1985, the offenders were sent home with a parent 44 percent of the time and referred to a community agency 56 percent of the time, police records show.

According to youth officers and social workers, most youths referred to community agencies fail to appear. Police do not have the time to check on the youth`s progress or even the power to enforce the referral.

''Almost every youth we process has some prior arrests,'' said Sgt. Warren Fasone of the Wentworth Area youth division. ''We called one up on the computer the other day and the kid had 87 prior arrests and had never spent a day in jail. It`s not uncommon to have a kid with 15, 16, 17 prior arrests.'' For instance, the record of one young offender, Calvin, indicates he was arrested 41 times before he turned 17 in October. His first seven arrests, which included shoplifting and theft, were ''adjusted'' in the police station. He was not referred to court until after a year of repeated contact with police. In all, 28 of Calvin`s 41 crimes were ''adjusted.''

He has never spent a day in a juvenile jail.

''There are hundreds like him,'' Fasone said. ''He probably cost a good $100,000-plus just in paperwork. The youth officer probably said, `why clutter the system?` They`ll just send him right back.''

Many youth officers said they release juveniles because even if they refer an offender to court, their work will be undercut by judges who dismiss arrests or give out sentences that police consider too lenient for the crimes. As a consequence, youths who come in contact with the law frequently are far more likely to become contemptuous of it.

Because the decision to release juveniles without charging them is based on highly subjective criteria, police exercise an enormous amount of influence on juvenile crime. But without the authority to enforce referrals and with few standards to follow, many youth officers are frustrated.

''These kids laugh at us,'' said Detective Don Peterson, a Wentworth Area youth officer. ''We`re a joke to them.''

Police are given six guidelines to follow in determining whether to charge a juvenile or release him. They are the gravity of the crime, the attitudes of the victim, of the offender, and of the offender`s family; the best interest of the community and the record of the offender. Often, there is a lack of consistency in how officers apply those standards.

Other youth officers attribute the high number of releases to the personal philosophy of Mayo, the youth division commander.

''Under his regime, he wants to help the kids,'' explained a youth officer. ''So we make a lot more adjustments. Under previous administrations, you went out and arrested the kids. I think the answer is somewhere in between.''

Mayo explained that many crimes committed by youths are minor in comparison to adult crimes, and that youths in particular should be treated with more patience.

That philosophy is in sharp contrast to a 1981 police crackdown on juvenile crime. Suspected gang members were rounded up and arrested on disorderly conduct cases. Though most of the cases eventually were dropped, juvenile and gang-related crime decreased. The policy was changed after settlement of a lawsuit charging that thousands of blacks and Hispanics had been wrongfully jailed.

Because of the officers` other duties and a 50 percent drop in the number of youth officers over the last decade--the city has not tested a new class of youth officers in five years--there is little time or manpower to spend rehabilitating a youth.

In addition to deciding the fates of delinquent youths, the city`s 221 youth officers are responsible for tracking down missing children--as well as missing adults--and investigating charges of abuse and neglect. The investigations involve a large amount of paperwork and time because of an increase in reports of missing and abused children. Last year, youth officers made 80,000 missing person and more than 8,000 child abuse and neglect investigations.

Originally youth officers were to spend time counseling young offenders. Now, Mayo said youth officers may have as little as 10 minutes to spend with a juvenile.

Peterson, a no-nonsense detective who worked as a tactical officer for 15 years before becoming a youth officer, spends much of his time investigating charges of sexual abuse and searching for missing children in the maze of public housing complexes--Stateway Gardens, Robert Taylor Homes, Ida B. Wells --on the South Side. The Wentworth area is ''not good duty,'' Peterson explains.

''We could fill the whole Department of Corrections with Area One crimes if we put our mind to it,'' he said.

Most of the children Peterson sees come from troubled homes. Many have been abused mentally, physically or sexually. Most are in gangs. At roll call each morning, he gets an average of four missing children assignments.

''Where do you look for a kid in a city of 3 1/2 million people when their own parents won`t even look for them?'' Peterson asks. ''You`re like a social worker in many ways. A lot of kids need serious help and when you realize you can`t give them any, it gets really frustrating. You get burned out.''

Driving around in a borrowed, battered Ford, Peterson spied several youngsters trying to break open a parking meter taller than they. They scattered when they saw him.

''I`ve had kids tell me they were`t worried because they weren`t going to get in trouble anyway,'' Peterson said. ''The courts should punish. If you can`t incarcerate somebody, then you should at least have them out here picking up papers or cleaning the streets. Make them realize immediately what they did.